


Purple

by rizcriz



Series: tumblr is dying time to get compiling [27]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M, everything thinks q's an idiot and he is but not as much as they think, soulmate magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 14:53:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16956048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rizcriz/pseuds/rizcriz
Summary: In which a little spell reveals True Love.





	Purple

Quentin’s an idiot.

It’s what everyone’s thinking, but god, he can’t help but agree. Because, while practicing his class work (which is somehow he always finds himself in ridiculous predicaments) he manages to … accidentally nab everyone in a spell that has nothing to do with his classwork.

Which is to say.

He may have accidentally cast a spell that makes everyone turn the color of their current mood.

When Margo bursts into his a room, a bright, fuming red he half expects her to murder him. Because even though, at that point, there’d been no evidence of it being his fault–they both knew that without a doubt, Quentin had fucked something up along the way. It’s his talent.

Maybe that’s where he belongs. House of the Fuck Ups. Is that a thing?

Everyone’s (at least, all his friends) gathered in the Physical Kids Cottage glaring at him. All but two of them are the same bright red as Margo. Though, Penny’s looking more of a murky, bloody red. Quentin can’t tell if that means he’s just irritated, or if it means he’s right on the precipice of murdering him. Knowing Penny it could be either.

Eliot and Julia are the only ones not comically red. Julia’s a soft pink. Quentin thinks pink means at ease. Sure, her emotions are on display for everyone, but Julia’s never been afraid of expressing herself. He thinks she’s happy, finally. He could be wrong. He’s not an expert on moods or their colors. Just ask his mood stabilising meds.

Oh, you can’t. Because Dean Fogg still has them.

Eliot’s the only one that really stands out. He looks a little frustrated, like everyone else, but he’s not red. He’s not even a shade of red.

He’s this beautiful, soft, shining shade of lilac.

And Quentin doesn’t have the slightest clue what it means.

Except.

Except, Quentin had been yellow before Eliot walked in the room. He’d been embarrassed and anxious and yellow and warm and –

Then Eliot walked in the room, and now he’s the same shade of Lilac. Only it’s not nearly as flattering on him as it is on Eliot. On him, it’s more muddy and diluted. Like a lilac floating in a muddy puddle of water. Eliot looks like a freshly–

“Jesus Christ,” Penny exclaims, somehow glaring even harder at Quentin. “Just ask him! And stop waxing poetic about how fucking beautiful the god damned purple is, holy shit. I might actually vomit.” He leans against the wall and rolls his eyes, mumbling mostly to himself, “It’s not even that fucking pretty.”

But then Kady kicks open the door–and ah, shit, how’d Quentin forget about Kady, who might actually murder him–and stands, green and livid in the doorway. She points an angry shaking finger, and the green fades away to make room for red, and yeah. Quentin’s going to die.

He’s going to die, but he’s not an idiot.

Because Penny pushes away from the wall and gapes at her like she’s the conqueror she is–and Penny.

Penny turns purple.

It’s not a slow fade like the other colors. It’s like the red falls away like petals to leave room for something new. Something beautiful. Quentin thinks he even sees the red shed down Penny’s legs. He doesn’t think Penny even realizes, not really, until Kady looks at him, and the red fades to purple just as quickly. Her colors flicker back and forth like she can’t figure out which one she wants to focus on more.

“Oh,” Margo says, picking up a chip and biting into it. “Now I get it.”

Wide eyed, Quentin turns back to Eliot, because he’s not an idiot, and he knows what purple is.

Eliot clamps his jaw shut, and moves to grab a tumbler off the bar, and a bottle of whiskey. The purple only shines brighter on his skin, like a flower glistening in the early morning dew. And Quentin might fucking faint.

He points an accusative finger at Eliot. “You love me.”

Eliot looks up from the tumblr, unimpressed, and pours the whiskey into the tumbler. He doesn’t say anything he lifts the bottle and then sets it down beside the glass. Then, he wraps his purple fingers around it, and quirks an eyebrow at Quentin. “Literally everyone here knew that, Q. That’s not even remotely news.”

“What? But–”

“And the news isn’t that Penny and Kady love each other, either,” Alice interjects, before he can even think to say it.

And okay, Quentin’s back to feeling like an idiot.

“We do no–”

“Save it for when you’re not literally wearing your emotions,” Margo says with a roll of her eyes, as she turns to face Quentin. “Q.”

He blinks at her. What? What the fuck is he missing?

“Margo.”

She blinks back at him, before her brow furrows and she leans in, perching precariously on the edge of the arm of the sofa. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know,” She waves a hand gesturing to all of him, “Freaking out right now?” He doesn’t get it, even as he looks down at himself and back up at her. Which just seems to make her bristle, as she shoves off the couch and grabs his wrist to bring it up to his face. “Hey, Lavender Brown. You’re fucking purple.”

Josh stands up then, now an intriguing shade of orange. “You turned purple when Eliot walked in.”

And Todd appears behind him, all blue curiosity. “Like Penny did when Kady walked in–”

“I didn–”

“Shut up, Penny,” Alice hisses.

“Score!” Todd whispers, hitting Josh’s shoulder with the back of his hand, “I’m not being shut u–”

“Shut the fuck up, Todd.”

Todd take a step back, the blue turning a dark indigo, and nods respectfully at Margo. “Yes, ma’am.”

She narrows her eyes at him, before turning her attention back on Quentin. “You follow?”

He thinks they’re talking about him being in love with Eliot. But that doesn’t make sense, because he’s never not been in love with Eliot.

“ … Not really,” He says, pulling his arm away from her. He glances across the room at Penny, who’s mouth’s fallen open. “What?”

“Of all the basic ass bullshit that goes through your mind–” He breaks off and flops down onto the couch. “Fucking ridiculous. You’re a fucking idiot.”

“What’d I do?” he flinches, “I mean–other than turn us all into walking mood rings.”

Margo’s eyes go wide like she might have him committed, but Penny holds a hand up. “He’s not freaking out,” He says, all monotone and boredom, “Because he knows he loves Eliot.” He raises his eyebrows sardonically, “The one thing he keeps beneath his wards. We all think he doesn’t know he’s mooning but–”

Margo flips back around to stare at Quentin again, pointing a finger, and speaking over Penny, who just keeps going even though nobodies listening. Probably a show that he really doesn’t care. “You know you’re in love with Eliot. You knew before today?”

He nods, once, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah …” He says, “I just always thought he wasn’t interested like that.”

“I literally offered to seduce you if you got kicked out of school!”

Quentin twists around to nod, “Yeah, and it sounded like a joke!”

Eliot scoffs. “Definitely wasn’t joking. And definitely wasn’t going to not seduce you if you got kicked out.”

Quentin swallows thickly and forces all thoughts of what that means down beneath his wards before Penny can–

“Oh god damn it!”

And … Penny’s gone.

They all stare at the empty space for a long moment, before a little laugh bubbles out of Alice, but she puts a hand to her mouth and forces a serious look, furrowing her brow.

Margo takes a deep breath, and grabs Quentin’s arms just beneath his shoulders. She shakes him, once, twice, before saying, “You. Are. An. Idiot.”

But her red is fading to the same shade of pink as Julia, and he can’t help but to grin.

“So …” Todd says, and before Margo can scold him for speaking again, he barrels on, though he has a look of abject terror on his face the whole way through, “Are Quentin and Eliot going to finally admit they’re together? And like, actually be together so they can stop mooning sadly from a distance?” He darts behind Josh.

But Margo nods in agreement, “They’d fucking better.”

“Mm,” Eliot says, swallowing his swig of whiskey and pointing with the hand holding his glass, “Speaking of fucking. Quentin, let’s go.”

Quentin blinks. “What?”

“My room. Yesterday. Come along.”

And he strolls out of the room.

Quentin stares after him for a long moment, until a chorus of agitated, pink voices yell, “Go!”

 


End file.
